


A Question Of Balance

by loves_books



Category: The A-Team (2010), The A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-17 00:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11263782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: Hannibal felt alarm bells starting to ring somewhere in the distance as he paused in the bedroom doorway. At first glance, everything seemed to be perfectly normal. The bed was made, the pillows fluffed up just the way Face liked them, and Face himself had clearly shaved and made it as far as getting dressed in his combats. But from the way he was sitting now, slumped on the edge of the mattress with his head in his hands and elbows propped on his knees, everything was very much not okay.





	A Question Of Balance

“There you are, kid. Didn’t you hear me shouting? We’re going to be late if we don’t hit the road now.” Hannibal had been looking for Face all over the house, knowing they had an important briefing on base ahead of their next deployment, until he’d finally thought to head upstairs and check their bedroom. “Everything okay?”

He felt alarm bells starting to ring somewhere in the distance as he paused in the doorway, waiting for Face to reply. At first glance, everything seemed to be perfectly normal, though of course first appearances could be deceiving. The bed was made, the pillows fluffed up just the way Face liked them, and Face himself had clearly shaved and made it as far as getting dressed in his combats. But from the way he was sitting now, slumped on the edge of the mattress with his head in his hands and elbows propped on his knees, everything was very much not okay. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” Face’s voice sounded almost normal, though he spoke the words to the floor rather than lifting his head to look Hannibal in the eye.

Hannibal crossed the room quickly to kneel in front of his lover, the briefing forgotten in a heartbeat. His pulse sped up and his throat grew tight with emotion, both worry and relief warring for attention – Face had been having some very obvious problems for weeks now, though of course he’d stubbornly refused to acknowledge them previously, let alone seek help.

“Can’t do what, baby?” Hannibal asked, resting his hands carefully onto Face’s tense shoulders, unsure exactly what the problem might be and wary of causing any pain.

Face twitched under his touch but made no sound, barely seeming to even breathe for several minutes. Hannibal held himself still and kept quiet, resisting the urge to push Face for an answer, knowing from long years of experience that it was far better to wait it out; whatever was coming had to be at Face’s own pace, or it wouldn’t come at all.

When it eventually did come, Face’s bleak answer nearly broke Hannibal’s heart, though he felt another strange rush of relief in the same moment.

“Something’s wrong with me.”

“Oh, Face.” Still kneeling, still gently holding his lover’s shoulders, Hannibal leant forwards and pressed a careful kiss to the top of Face’s bowed head. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s been going on.”

“I don’t feel sick,” Face said hesitantly, leaning forwards a little himself and trusting more of his weight to Hannibal’s strong grip, his hands falling limply to rest at his sides. “I really don’t feel ill. It’s just…”

“It’s just what?” Hannibal prompted cautiously when Face seemed to be stuck.

After another long minute, Face finally found the words to continue, though he didn’t sound at all certain. “It’s like the room is spinning around me all the time. Like I’m dizzy, or drunk, but it’s not either of those things.” Face still seemed to be searching too hard for the words he needed, and Hannibal tugged him gently forwards until Face’s forehead came to rest on his chest.

“It’s all the time?” Hannibal had wondered if that might be a part of the problem, and it really was a relief in some ways to finally have Face talking about it. In other ways, of course, it just raised his level of concern even higher, at the fact that Face felt he couldn’t hide it any longer. The fact that Face had felt he had to hide it in the first place was a whole other issue they would deal with at a later date. Face nodded once against his chest, and Hannibal probed a little further. “Does it get any better when you’re lying down? Or sitting, or with your head forwards?”

“No. Nothing makes it better. Nothing makes it stop. I just want it to stop.” 

Face’s words were so faint now that Hannibal had to strain to hear them. He slid one hand up to cup the back of Face’s head, lifting the other to rub gentle circles between Face’s shoulder blades, thinking hard. He’d had his suspicions for a while – Face had become as clumsy as hell, tripping over his own feet for no good reason, and visibly reaching out to grip hold of table edges or the backs of chairs when he stood too quickly.

“Is it just the dizziness, or – ?”

“It’s not really dizziness,” Face cut in, abandoning any attempt at sounding normal; to Hannibal’s ears he now sounded utterly miserable. “That’s not the right word. It’s more like I’ve just got off a rollercoaster. Or like I’m on a ship, with the earth moving underneath me. I can’t find my balance.”

The trips and falls had actually been funny at first, and all of them had laughed as their usually sure-footed lieutenant had stumbled and faltered and staggered his way through the last fortnight. Face had laughed right along with them all, even while dusting the dirt from his uniform with one hand after falling down, and clinging on to the wall for dear life with the other.

It had grown far less funny as time passed, particularly as the bruises and scrapes on Face’s tanned skin had started to mount up, but Face had brushed off any concern or attempts at help, insisting he was perfectly fine. It was his shoelaces, he’d said repeatedly. Or, there was a hidden pothole. Someone had pushed him accidentally. He’d stood up too fast. 

Hannibal kissed Face’s soft hair once again, thinking hard and fast. Thank goodness Face had finally admitted that something was actually wrong, before Hannibal reached the point where he would have had to drag his lover to the medical unit by force, slung over one shoulder if he’d had to. That moment had been approaching rapidly, particularly after Face had nearly taken a swan-dive headfirst down the stairs earlier that morning, only saved by Murdock’s quick reaction.

“You know what I think?” he asked, keeping his lips pressed to the top of Face’s head. “I think it’s probably something simple, something like an inner ear infection perhaps.” He’d been worried that it could be Face’s blood pressure, or even his heart, but if nothing made the dizzy sensation better or worse then that seemed unlikely to him, though obviously his medical training was limited to field first aid. He’d leave a true diagnosis to the professionals; contrary to popular belief, all of them knew when they needed proper help, as Face had finally proved with his reluctant confession that morning.

“But I don’t feel sick,” Face protested half-heartedly. “I’m not feverish, and I don’t have a headache or an earache, or anything like that.”

“And are you complaining about that, really?” That won him a small, barely audible laugh, and Hannibal felt the knot of worry in his chest loosen just a fraction. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s time for the doctors to take a look at you, I think. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

But as he shifted his own balance in preparation for standing, Face suddenly slid his arms round Hannibal’s waist in a tight embrace, locking their bodies together and pinning Hannibal in position. “In a minute,” he whispered desperately, burrowing his face further into Hannibal’s chest. “I’ll go in a minute, I promise. Can we stay like this for just a little longer? You’re my anchor, John.”

“Nice to know I’m good for something.” Hannibal’s knees were complaining and his legs were starting to cramp up from his awkward position, but he would sit there willingly until the end of time if that was what it took to make his boy feel even a little bit better. “I love you,” he murmured, and Face’s arms tightened a little further in response. “We’ll figure this out, and you’re going to be just fine. Okay?”

“Okay,” came the whispered answer, and Hannibal settled in for as long as Face needed, more than content to anchor his dizzy boy.

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a prompt from Panda77777:
> 
> Face, who is normally the fittest and athletic amongst the team suddenly becomes very unsteady on his feet and keeps losing his balance. Maybe even hurting himself. At first the team find it funny but as time goes on Hannibal becomes more and more concerned. Face however is in denial and he"s fine and doesn't need to see the medics. A lot of hurt comfort, could be angsty but not a fatal illness. Set in the army if possible.


End file.
